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scribbled a note and
    slipped it under Jack’s door.
    Mr. Darcy, I will be there as requested. —Elizabeth
    At midnight, Schuyler slipped the key in the lock and turned it. The apartment was dark, which made the view from the floor-to-ceiling windows even
    more breathtaking, the dark river against city lights, the West Side Highway a ribbon of yel ow taxicabs. Schuyler stepped inside and looked around.
    She closed the door behind her. But she was alone. No one was there.
    And then, before she could breathe, there he was, solid, against her, his warm lips on hers, his hands around her waist, and she had dropped the
    key and the book on the floor. She wanted to cry out—to ask questions—but she could feel his heart beating against hers and the intensity of the
    emotion exploding between them. She returned his kisses with an ardor that she did not know she was capable of—and he buried his face in her
    neck as if he wanted to breathe in every part of her—and she buckled to the floor so that he fel with her, until they were lying down, stil kissing, their
    bodies entwined like roots of a tree.
    “Jack . . .” she final y said, when she had found her voice. He was lying on top of her, his weight heavy and yet light at the same time—a weight
    she wanted to bear. “I . . .” She wanted to tel him the same thing she had wanted to tel him since that night when he first kissed her. He had stopped
    her from saying it back then, but he wouldn’t stop her now. She wanted him to know how she felt about him.
    Jack looked at her and raised an eyebrow. He looked so serious in the moonlight, but his eyes were teasing. They were sparkling. This was a
    boy who spoke through books: longing and exile— The Plague —banter and obstacles— Pride and Prejudice . He spoke her language. She watched
    as he, with his hair tousled and his eyes shining, raised her arms above her head so that she was immobile beneath him. The strength in his hold and
    the exquisite torture of wondering when he would kiss her again was too much to bear. It was painful to feel so much desire.
    Then he bent down and kissed her gently, a feathery whisper that melted against her as she pressed her body against his.
    She knew right then that she didn’t have to say anything.
    They understood each other perfectly.
    There would never be anything but this. Stolen moments, stolen kisses, a secret oasis. There would be no public displays of affection. In school
    and at his home, there would only be indifference and detachment. There would be no holding hands, no study dates, no dinner dates, no dates at al .
    Ever.
    But it was al right. She would take as much as he could give, and for now, it was enough.

    FAMILY RECORDS:
    FORCE
    Charles Van Alen changed his family name to “Force” after his bondmate and twin sister, Al egra Van Alen, broke their blood bond to bond with her
    human familiar. From his actions we can only conclude that he no longer considered himself a member of the Van Alen family, and thus we have
    created a new family record to reflect his new al egiance.
    JACK FORCE
    Abbadon, Angel of Destruction, Twin Angel of the Apocalypse, the Unlikely, Destroyer of Worlds
    Birth Name : Benjamin Hamilton Force, known as “Jack”
    Origin : June 7, 1991, New York, New York
    Known Past Lives : Henry Searle (Newport), Wil iam White (Plymouth), Louis d’Orleans (Versail es), Valerius (Rome)
    Bondmate : Madeleine Force (presumed broken)
    Assigned Human Conduit : None
    List of Human Familiars : Kitty Mul ins (2006)
    Physical Characteristics:
    Hair : Blond (platinum)
    Eyes : Green
    Height : 6’2”
    As a child, Benjamin Force was known for his uncontrol able temper tantrums and was given the nickname “Blackjack,” which was then shortened to
    “Jack.” In elementary school, Jack was a whirlwind of activity, unable to sit stil or concentrate, and was diagnosed by human psychiatrists as having
    Attention Deficit Disorder and was prescribed copious amounts of